Part 35 (2/2)
David's voice rose. ”None of you were there! When n.o.body turned up for tea I thought you might be at the Castle, so I sent Ali to inquire. So much time wasted . . .”
He covered his face with his hands. I jogged his elbow. ”Self-recrimination is fruitless, David. I cannot see that you acted irresponsibly. Go on.”
David pushed his hat to the back of his head, took a deep breath, and resumed in a calmer voice. ”The Vandergelts came, with Mother and Father. They were concerned; said none of you had been there. We started counting heads. That was when we realized Maryam hadn't been seen since last night, nor Nefret since midday. We found the note-your note-in the surgery, so at least we knew where you two had got off to. We had to track Nisrin down, she'd closed the clinic and gone home; it was she who told us Nefret had been sent for by the doctor on the Isis. The boy was ill, he said.”
Still at full gallop, the horse turned onto the corniche and I fell heavily against Ramses. He put me back onto my seat with hands as cold and hard as ice.
David shouted at the driver and our headlong pace slackened. There was enough traffic on the road to make this expedient; it was still early by Luxor standards, and the tourists who sought pleasure rather than edification, and those who catered to them, were out in full force. The cold white light of electricity shone from the hotels, the mellower glow of candles and lanterns from shops and houses.
”As soon as we learned where Nefret had gone, we crossed to Luxor, Bertie and I. That's when we found out the Isis was gone. The vendors and shopkeepers along the street had seen Nefret go on board. She didn't come off.”
”And Emerson?” I inquired, straightening my hat.
”You told me to take it in order,” David replied. ”Are you all right, Aunt Amelia?”
”Perfectly.” There was a lump the size of a cannonball in my stomach, and I wanted to scream at him.
”Almost there,” David said, glancing out the window. ”Well, shortly after Nefret boarded, along came the Professor at a dead run. He went pelting up the gangplank, and that was the last anyone saw of him, or Nefret. A short time later the gangplank was hauled in, and the boat sailed.”
”We had been seen visiting the Isis,” I mused. ”The watchers would have no reason to suppose anything was wrong. Which way did it go?”
”We're working on that.” The carriage stopped. David jumped out and handed me down. ”I'll tell you about it in a minute. Sabir is waiting with his new boat.”
Tourist steamers lined the bank, all atwinkle with lights. There was no gap in the line. The Isis's berth had been taken by another boat. When Sabir saw us coming he stood ready to cast off.
”What, then, is the current situation?” I asked, stepping into the boat.
”We decided Bertie should go back to the house to tell the others while I waited for the train. The Isis headed downstream, we learned that much; Bertie said he'd telegraph the police at Hammadi and Qena to watch out for her.”
Motionless as a statue, his hands clasped, Ramses said, ”Useless. All she has to do is pull in to a landing somewhere, dowse her running lights, and make a few alterations under cover of darkness. A new name, another flag at the stern, and she'd be difficult to spot.”
David was no more deceived by that cool voice than I was. ”Ramses, I'm sorry. I should have-”
”Done what? It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.”
When we reached the house it was buzzing like a beehive and s.h.i.+ning like a Christmas tree, every lamp alight and-as it appeared-a goodly portion of the population of Gurneh mounting guard. Some were pacing up and down, all were talking, and a few brandished rifles. It was illegal for Egyptians to own them, but the authorities tended to turn a blind eye when the owner was a responsible individual. Though I do not generally approve of firearms, I found the sight comforting.
Evelyn was the first to burst out of the house. She flung her arms around me. ”Thank G.o.d you are safe, Amelia.”
”I was never in danger, my dear,” I replied, putting her gently away. ”There is no time for that sort of thing now. We must have . . . Ramses, where are you going?”
”I won't be long.”
I watched him move away with long, measured strides, and had not the heart to call him back. No a.s.surances are as convincing as the evidence of one's own eyes. He was going to the children.
The others were in the sitting room. Cyrus and Katherine and Bertie, Walter and Lia, Gargery, Daoud and Kadija and Fatima, and . . .
”Selim!” I cried. ”Go back to bed at once.”
His brown face was a little paler than usual, but he was fully dressed and his neatly wound turban concealed the bandages. ”Lie in bed while Emerson and Nur Misur are in danger? My honored father would rise up from his tomb.”
”It is true.” Daoud nodded. ”Now you are here, Sitt Hakim, G.o.d be thanked. You will tell us what to do.”
The hard knot in my interior softened a little as I looked round the room. No woman could have had more valiant allies than these. I did not protest, for I knew I would have to have Selim tied to his bed to keep him there. He had a knife at his belt and so did Daoud. Cyrus, too, was armed, with a holstered pistol. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I saw that Evelyn was gripping my sword parasol. They would obey my slightest command. If only I knew what command to give! I had preserved my outward calm, but inwardly I was in such a confusion of rage and worry I couldn't think sensibly.
Stalling for time, I took a chair and asked, ”Where is Sethos?”
”Somewhere around,” Cyrus replied. ”Said he couldn't sit still, and durned if I blame him.”
Ramses and Sethos must have met outside, for they came in together. ”Ah, there you are,” said the latter, nodding at me. ”Hasn't anyone offered you a whiskey and soda?”
Cyrus let out a multisyllabled American exclamation. ”Jumping Jehoshaphat, I should have thought of it. How about you, Ramses?”
Ramses shook his head. ”What we need is one of Mother's famous councils of war.”
Everyone looked expectantly at me. ”First,” I said, taking the gla.s.s from Cyrus, ”tell us what steps you have taken. You telegraphed, Bertie?”
Bertie nodded. He looked absolutely miserable.
Sethos had helped himself to a whiskey. I suspected it was not his first. ”That step was necessary, but it may not be of much use. I have taken the liberty of dispatching a number of your fellows to alert the villages between here and Nag Hammadi, and upstream, as far as Esna, in case she changes course. The word will be pa.s.sed on.”
”A regular Pony Express,” Cyrus said, with an approving nod.
”Donkey express,” Sethos corrected. ”And a few camels.”
”That's all very well and good,” said Walter peevishly. ”But I do not understand why we are sitting round drinking whiskey and not acting!”
”What else can we do?” I asked.
Walter banged his fist on the table. His mild countenance was no longer mild; his eyes glittered. ”Go in pursuit! We have the Amelia, have we not?”
Sethos put his empty gla.s.s on the table and the rest of us gaped at Walter. ”I wondered if you would think of that.”
”You had, I suppose?” Walter demanded.
”Selim had. That's why he's here. We will need him. There's only a skeleton crew on board, and it would take too long to get Reis Ha.s.san and his engineer back.”
”Hmph,” said Walter, only slightly appeased and sounding as warlike as Emerson. ”Then why haven't we started?”
”Because,” said Sethos, in his most irritating drawl, ”we cannot start before morning. Aside from the danger of navigation at night, we could go right past the Isis in the dark. And because we were waiting for Amelia and Ramses. And, most importantly, because we need to gather all the facts and plan our strategy before we charge ahead. Suppose we do catch her up, then what? Board her, swords in hand?”
Walter jumped to his feet. He looked twice the man he had been when he arrived in Cairo, and for the first time I saw the resemblance between him and the man he confronted. He s.n.a.t.c.hed his eyegla.s.ses off and threw them across the room. ”d.a.m.n you, er-Sethos, are you making fun of me? If swords are required, I will use one!”
Sethos said in quite a different tone, ”I beg your pardon . . . brother. I know you would. We had better pray it won't come to that. Sit down, I beg, and let us discuss the situation calmly. Amelia, would you like to take charge of the discussion?”
Before I could begin, Selim rose carefully to his feet. ”I am going to the Amelia to begin overhauling the engines. I will have her ready to sail at daybreak.”
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